


i'll be the boyfriend in your wet dreams tonight

by pechee (sajere1)



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Daddy Kink, Demisexuality, Dirty Talk, Drabble Collection, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Semi-Public Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-10
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:43:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21740131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sajere1/pseuds/pechee
Summary: “My dad didn’t start to feel attraction until junior year,” Riz blurts out in the silence after he solicits Fabian for casual sex. “Technically, I’m right on track.”An ongoing collection of self-indulgent nsfw Fabian/Riz pieces, some with more narrative than others.
Relationships: Riz Gukgak/Fabian Aramais Seacaster
Comments: 32
Kudos: 317





	1. art gallery

**Author's Note:**

> just fuckin' against a wall. there is literally nothing else happening in this

The force of Fabian shoving him against the wall is almost loud, and for a moment Riz is afraid someone heard it. Then Fabian’s hand is yanking on his hair and his mouth is hot and open and Riz can’t think anymore, can’t do anything but scratch his claws over Fabian’s stupid fancy suit as Fabian kisses him, messy, thorough, dominating. He locks his ankles behind Fabian’s back, and Fabian hitches him up, one hand on his ass for support to better fuck his mouth open.

“Fabian,” Riz gasps when they pull back, and he wants it to be a hiss but it’s more of a breathy moan as Fabian loosens his tie, nimble fingers pulling over to brush against his throat. “People could see us, we’re like 30 seconds away– “

“Good,” Fabian breathes, sliding Riz’s tie almost off so that he can get at the buttons of his shirt, finding a place to mark that will be covered by his collar when they go back out and rejoin the high-brow art show attendees that wander the floor a scant wall away.

“Not – hng,” Riz has to bite his lip to keep from making a noise that’ll echo down the hallway, and he can feel Fabian smirk against his collarbone, clever hand reaching down to untuck his shirt, arching up as Riz grinds mindlessly into his stomach. “Not good, we’ll get – kicked out, fuck – “

“So we’ll get home faster, and I can fuck you there.” Fabian runs his mouth over Riz’s ear and Riz spasms, fully, clawing at Fabian’s back underneath the jacket. “That’s a win.”

“That’s not – they could catch us.”

“Yeah? What’s so bad about that?” Fabian’s mouth hasn’t moved, brushing in a whisper over Riz’s earlobe, but his hand has finished with Riz’s shirt. It’s reaching for his zipper, pulling it down with a noise that should not be that loud. “Get to show off how wrecked you are, give them a chance to see what you look like when I’m sucking your cock? Better than any of the other art out there.”

Riz makes an unintelligible noise, because Fabian has a hand on his dick now and is jerking him, smooth, slow, thumb pressing in over the tip so that Riz doubles over and presses his face into Fabian’s shoulder and sobs. “Like that,” Fabian murmurs as Riz gives in, clumsily reaching towards Fabian’s pants himself, squirming under Fabian’s hungry gaze. “Just like that, fuckin’ gorgeous, all the time.” He makes a pained little noise when Riz pulls his dick out, vibrating with the effort of keeping his hips still.

Forehead resting on Fabian’s shoulder, Riz is looking down as he pulls Fabian’s dick out, hard, hard and throbbing and big enough compared to Riz to almost be too much. He nearly drools on Fabian’s jacket thinking about getting it in his mouth. “Let me down,” he rasps, “let me down so I can suck your dick, wanna feel it in my throat, just – “

“Fuck.” Fabian jerks in his grip and Riz licks his lips. “Gotta – fuck, sweetheart, later, we gotta be fast right now, just. Love you like this, when you get all needy. Gonna fuck you like you deserve when we’re home, gonna fuck your mouth good, just – just take the edge off, for now, Jesus Christ, Riz – “

Fabian’s hand is in Riz’s hair again, dragging him up to kiss, messy, open, wet, as Fabian cums in Riz’s hand. Riz pulls his palm up to lick it off and Fabian smothers his face in Riz’s neck, moaning, quiet, someone could hear – 

Fabian bites down on Riz’s throat, a sharp pain that will definitely leave a mark, too high for Riz to possibly hide, at the same time he pushes his thumb up against Riz’s slit, and Riz is gone.


	2. tied up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they described riz being tied up and lou said "hot" as a joke and i tried so hard to resist the urge to turn it into a gay thing. i tried SO hard

Riz looks so fucking good like this. Fabian reaches a hand up to trace over the edges of rope, where Riz’s wrists are red and raw. Riz makes a choked gasping sound as he glances over his shoulder, shaking sweaty hair out of his eyes to look at Fabian, a little wild. He’s taken maybe half of Fabian’s dick inside himself now, in slow, tense slides of his hips, jerking down a little bit at a time. His back and arms are decorated with rope, hands twisted and tied in a sailor’s knot, bruises mottled across his skin wherever Fabian’s mouth has been able to reach. He’s shaking – his legs, where he’s riding Fabian, trying to keep the pace manageable, and the whole rest of his body, too, from how tight he’s been wound up, over and over without relief.

Fabian lets his hand slide back to rest on Riz’s hip and sits up a little, enough that Riz jostles, a broken moan slipping past as it pulls him further down on Fabian’s dick. He lets his other hand trail up and over to Riz’s neck, curling and pressing in on the bruises there, steady hand on his trembling form. Fabian leans forward, so that his chest is not-quite pressing to Riz’s back, so they can both feel the body heat but not the touch. Riz lets his head fall to the side, complete submission. Fabian licks up the sweat of his neck, something preening at the sight of Riz baring his throat.

Fabian moves from Riz’s hip to thumb over where Riz is connected to his dick, pressing up against the edges of his hole, pulling his cheeks apart so that he slides down another inch, strangling a few more garbled noises from him. “Taking it so good,” Fabian murmurs into Riz’s shoulder, tracing over Riz’s lips with his fingers as Riz whines, pants, swollen and wet and deliciously ruined. “Made for this. For me. Such a good fuck, opening up for me so nice.” Fabian presses his fingers into Riz’s mouth, fucks in with his hand as he jerks his hips, just a little, just enough that Riz chokes on it, that he goes tense and whining with how much Fabian fucking owns him. “Slut. I should charge a copper for people to see this show. Make a fuckin’ fortune, just look at you.”

He pulls his hand from Riz’s mouth, lets him gasp in a breath, before he wraps the arm around Riz and fully pulls him back against Fabian’s chest, fucking in smooth, and Riz sobs. _“Take it,”_ Fabian growls, and Riz writhes underneath his grip, pulling away and pushing in all at once as Fabian shoves the rest of his cock in –

“Fabian,” Riz gasps, voice hoarse and half-slurred, “Fabian, ‘s too much, you’re so big, I can’t – “

“You can.”

“I don’t – “ Riz lets his head fall back onto Fabian’s shoulder as Fabian pulls him down to bottom out, hiccupping for breath, face wet and fucked already. “Fabian, please, just – “

Fabian smacks Riz on the ass and Riz jumps, moaning. The movement pushes him up, and he pushes back down right away and then writhes up again, trying to get away and deeper all at once, too much. Fabian slaps his ass again just to see how he whines, how he fucks backwards in aborted movements on Fabian’s cock. Riz is so hard, hard and leaking, has been for so long, and there is something gorgeous about the way his dick jerks when Fabian presses his thumb to Riz’s hole and grinds in that little bit deeper.

_“Fuck,”_ Riz sobs, and Fabian, Fabian with his strength and Riz’s tiny body, Fabian picks Riz up and throws him facedown on the bed and he shoves all the way in, and Riz _screams._

It’s been too much working up for Fabian to be patient now; he’s got one hand on Riz’s shoulder to yank him back every time Fabian thrusts forward, hard and fast, and the other hand pulled back to slap Riz’s ass as he goes, to palm it when it starts to show marks, as Riz sobs “yes yes yes” into the pillow, all of his fucking cherished intelligence and wordplay and bullshit stolen from him completely, just garbled noises and drooling into the mattress and hands spasming in his bonds, completely beyond thought and words. Fabian is half-feral, almost, just looking at him, glazed eyes, whole body jerking under Fabian’s grip. Riz screams hoarse when Fabian slams into him, when he pulls out completely to flip Riz over, to grab him by the hair and yank him up and jack off until Fabian cums all over his fucking face. 

He’s open mouthed, panting for it, like a fucking dog. As Fabian starts to spurt white all over him, he leans in to mouth at the tip so that Fabian’s hips jerk, instinctively, and he whines, like Fabian fucking his mouth is a gift, like it’s all he wants in the world. “You’re such a whore,” Fabian gasps, slapping his cock over Riz’s cheek, who’s still aching and empty and looking up like Fabian has the world. “If you want it, fucking take it.” Fabian’s hips jerk, and Riz moans around it, eyelashes fluttering, and Fabian can feel the bed shifting where Riz is desperately humping against it. Fabian grabs the back of Riz’s hair and yanks him down, fucks into his throat without preamble, just to hear the way Riz gags on him, and as he starts a hard pace he can see Riz lose it, can lean around his grip on Riz’s ruined face to see spurts of cum hitting the blanket – and that’s it for Fabian again, shooting down Riz’s throat, like he’s fucking made for it, like he’s begging for it.

Fabian pulls back slow, letting his hand drift, rubbing smooth over Riz's cheek. Riz's eyes flutter closed. "How am I doing, babe?" Fabian breathes, staring at the way his cum looks dripping down Riz's nose, biting his lip.

Riz - Riz, who started this dumb thing, who climbed into Fabian's lap with a pile of rope and begged, all sweet and open-mouthed - Riz turns to catch Fabian's thumb in his mouth, smiling up, hazy. "More," he murmurs.

Fabian grins.


	3. SPACE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the first half of this was for a prompt on tumblr. the second half. was also for a prompt on tumblr but then i lost it and didnt get around to finishing it until just now. So That's That i guess.
> 
> i guess this is back kink?? i dont even know if thats a thing. aliens, man

Fabian has done some really weird shit for the sake of the galaxy before. There was that time he found and tamed a wild beast from the planet inhabited solely by dinosaurs and got it addicted to ice cream. That time he had to physically and literally bring his friends back from the dead. That time he released, made out with, and subsequently reimprisoned one of the most wanted criminals in the galaxy.

“This is not the weirdest thing we’ve ever done,” Fabian says as the door shuts behind him, “but it is definitely up there.”

Riz laughs, pushing himself up to sit on the massage table that Fabian had acquired and placed in The Hangman’s armory, just so they wouldn’t have to do this on the upper floor with the meeting room where Adaine could giggle watching them the whole time. “Genetic memory’s not that weird,” he says. Riz’s voice is bright, like they haven’t discovered a million-year-old secret about his entire race that might change their conception of life as they know it. “You humans have known about it for centuries now.”

“But it’s not – that’s not the same and you know it.” Fabian frowns, circling in so that he is leaning up against the table next to where Riz is sitting. The height of it makes it so, for once, they’re at about the same height. Fabian’s not used to Riz’s face being this close. “You have messages in your skin, The Ball. What the fuck?”

Riz’s face twitches for a moment. “Maybe they have curse words,” he says.

Fabian snorts. “Think your ancestors left you some good ancient porn on your arm?”

Riz laughs, for real, at that. Fabian watches his face for a second. The slow responses, the tilt of his ears, the way his freckles seem to blush, just a little, one of the only places on his body that does – they’re not cues that someone who doesn’t know Riz would pick up. He’s a very private man, Riz Gukgak, and always has been, from the moment they were thrown in that detention center together. He’s probably even got himself convinced.

He’s scared, and nervous, and he doesn’t know what to do.

“Alright, The Ball,” Fabian says, because the easy way to alleviate Riz when he gets doubts is to just fake confidence. Riz is always willing to believe Fabian knows what to do. “Let’s not put this off, or Fig will come down and get pictures of your gross body.”

“Harsh.” Riz nudges Fabian with his shoulder. Fabian nudges right back. “Maybe my body is cool. Maybe human bodies are the gross ones, and mine is super hot. Ever think of that?”

“No,” Fabian lies. Riz watches, and for a moment Fabian thinks he Knows, because Riz is perceptive, but then he grins and turns around, and Fabian’s safe.

Riz has always been careful about keeping himself covered. Alien anatomy is – it’s always a process to get used to. When Fabian had caught Gorgug going from the shower to his room once he had almost thrown something at him, because what the fuck. He doesn’t even want to know what Fig has going on underneath there. But Riz in particular has always been cautious. Always long sleeves, no matter how hot it is, and always loose, with several layers. Even now, his hands are shaking a little, as he pulls his jacket, and then vest, over his head, hesitating over the buttons of his second-to-last shirt.

“We can find another way to do this,” Fabian starts, but Riz puts up a hand and shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he says – short, clipped, and methodical, that way Riz gets when he doesn’t want to show vulnerability so he just sucks all the emotion from his voice. He unbuttons his shirt, slow, almost like a strip tease. Fabian’s breath catches as his collarbone – still human adjacent, but deep, much deeper than the skeleton of any human Fabian’s met, heavy shadowed – comes into view.

Riz must know that Fabian’s watching, but he doesn’t change his pace, the same sure fingers moving down until he can shrug the shirt off, utilitarian, without spectacle to it. His undershirt is sleeveless, black fabric, and when he reveals his arms –

Fabian’s breath catches. For a moment, Riz’s focused progress falters, lithe clawed fingers twisting the shirt between his hands. Fabian reaches out – catches himself. “Can – “ he falters. Riz probably doesn’t want to talk about it. Fabian is probably making this weird. He’s not –

“You can touch it,” Riz says, and his voice sounds very small. But he is smiling, sheepish, and presenting his arm for Fabian to see.

He hesitates, but at Riz’s encouraging nod, he reaches out. Riz’s arms are covered in a thin layer of what is not quite hair but not skin – “Your closest word for it is cilia,” Riz murmurs when Fabian brushes over it with something like wonder. Underneath, it looks as if he’s been flayed, almost, raw and a lighter green than his face and almost squishy looking. Fabian, hesitantly, brushes up against the skin under the cilia. It feels the same as any human, but the skin he touches is a few shades darker for the contact.

From the moment that Fabian brushes against actual-skin Riz jerks – not intentional, just a knee reaction. Fabian retreats entirely. “Sorry,” he says, uncertain what boundaries he’s crossed, looking up at Riz.

Riz, however, is smiling. “It’s fine. It’s just, uh – stuffs not supposed to get past the upper layer, so when it does it’s a little sensitive. It doesn’t hurt.”

Fabian squints. “…are you saying it’s ticklish?”

“Don’t use it against me,” Riz says, half-plea and half-tease, and Fabian laughs. Something in the mood has shifted, when Fabian’s first instinct was not to run but to reach in and learn, that has Riz relaxing. Good. “I know it looks weird. So, uh. Don’t tell the others.”

“The Ball, your body’s dope as shit,” Fabian says, reaching out once again. The cilia almost clings to Fabian’s hand when he brushes over it, like there’s some electric attraction or something – probably part of how it keeps dirt from getting to the skin. “This is so cool. What the fuck?”

Riz is full grinning now, sharp teeth and flushed freckles. “Don’t get too into it, I’m putting the shirt back on eventually,” he says, and takes Fabian’s stammering as the opportunity to pull off his undershirt in another, long sweep. Like his arms, Riz’s torso is covered in this long, not-quite-fur, enough that it’s incredible to Fabian he’s never accidentally caught sight of any of it before. His actual skeleton, like his collarbone and his face, is vaguely human but hollowed, smaller in many ways, bulging a little in places that are weird. “This is what you’re supposed to look like, yeah?” Fabian says. “You’re not just starving?”

“Dude, rude. What are you going to do if I tell you no? Forcefeed me?”

“I mean, yeah, if I gotta.”

“This is what it’s supposed to look like,” Riz smiles. He’s looking down at his lap again, carefully folding his shirts and setting them aside, to be returned to himself before any of the others catch sight. “I know it’s, um, kind of gross, and it doesn’t look healthy, but – “

“You look fine,” Fabian says immediately. And he really means it, too – now that the instinctive worry at seeing someone that would be considered dangerously thin by human standards has passed, he can see the way that the strange arches from Riz’s clavicle, the deep not-wounds of patterns over his stomach, might be considered attractive, in a weird, scientific way. Even in a not-scientific way. Like an abstract sculpture, or something; it is an inhuman beauty, but it is a beauty nonetheless. “I didn’t expect it, but it’s – you look good, The Ball.”

Riz looks up at him – Riz’s species doesn’t have eyelashes, but Fabian swears that Riz is looking coy anyway, as he examines Fabian, up and down. He smiles. “Thanks,” he says, voice a little soft. “We good to go?”

“Yeah.” Fabian reaches around himself for the jar of material as Riz settles himself on the massage table, stomach-down. “You sure you’re gonna be able to stay still while I rub this stuff on you?” Fabian says as he swings a leg over Riz’s hips. There is a large, square patch of Riz’s back that is empty of cilia, just open flesh. Even having it exposed to the air is making Riz shiver. “Gonna be hard to read a map if you’re laughing the whole time.”

Riz makes a strangled noise. “It doesn’t – that area doesn’t, uh, tickle.”

Riz fails to elaborate. “…what?”

“It – “ Riz makes another noise, one that Fabian can’t really parse, and when he turns his face to the side the inside of his ears have gone near-blue with how flushed they are. “It’s sensitive, but it’s a different kind of, um, sensitive. It won’t. I can keep still.”

Fabian’s eyebrows clench together. Riz’s hands have curled tight into the pillowy surface beneath him, clinging like his life depends on it. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he starts, but Riz shakes his head into the mattress.

“It doesn’t hurt. Just – don’t. Worry about it.”

Fabian watches a little longer. Riz has shut his eyes, tight, like if he doesn’t look Fabian won’t do anything, which is not great sign. “If you need to stop, you say, okay?” Fabian frowns. “Adaine can figure out another way to do this if we need. Don’t – don’t push yourself.”

“I’ll say,” Riz promises, with little half-smile that says he finds Fabian’s concern amusing. Fabian is willing to bet that’s the best he’ll get, so he sighs and dips his hand in the jar – ancient-skin-message-revealing-cream, for all your convenient needs! – to rub the paste over his palms.

He’s gonna have to get Riz’s back covered in the stuff, so there’s no point in drawing it out, but Fabian still goes in tentative. He really doesn’t want to hurt Riz, not if he can help it, and maybe if he can drip the stuff onto him, or something, with minimal contact, maybe it’ll be okay. The moment Fabian’s cautious hands come into contact with Riz’s skin he shivers, full body. Fabian snaps back until the tremors calm down before trying again – and again, at the moment of touch, Riz’s whole being shakes, claws tighter into the material beneath him.

The third time, Fabian steels himself and just goes in, spreading his palms over where the arch of Riz’s spine should be. And the noise Riz makes when Fabian touches, fully, hands spread out over his back, Riz bucking wildly into his grip –

God, he hopes he isn’t hurting Riz, because this is all seeming like a very different kind of sensitive and Fabian is not sure morally how he feels about his blood burning to it.

“You, uh – “ Fabian’s voice is shaky when he pulls away, the beginnings of the salve worked into Riz’s skin. “You good?”

“Yep.” Riz’s voice is an octave higher than usual and breathy as all fuck. When Fabian looks, he can see that Riz is biting his lip, hard, wet, open. Bad thing to think about. Bad Fabian. “It’s cool. You’re good. All good.”

“Uh-huh.” Fabian reaches into the jar to re-wet his hands, shaking despite himself. “How long did we have to do this again, for the map to show up?”

Riz makes another little noise, like he’s thinking about it. “An hour,” he says, voice strangled.

An hour. A whole hour. Fabian thinks this might count as torture.

“Cool.” Fabian swallows. Might as well get to it.

* * *

It’s not the touch that bothers him so much, Riz thinks, hazily. Because it’s – you know, Gorgug pats Riz on the back all the time, and even through his clothes he can feel it because Gorgug’s fucking strong, with all that bulging alien muscle and fat primed for combat. And when that happens, Riz isn’t weird about it. And there was the one time, ages and ages ago, where Riz got navilian flu, and Adaine had to rub some sort of gel on his back to soothe the ache, and he was fine then. Everything was fine.

The problem, really, is that it’s Fabian doing it. Because with Gorgug, and Adaine, they weren’t – they weren’t into Riz.

But Fabian’s got all sorts of stupid human pheromones that go off all the time forever. So it isn’t fine, the hands on his back, that have graduated to stroking smooth circles while Riz shivers, doing his best to pretend he’s dozing. Because every time Fabian touches him his stupid fucking dumb body chemicals go off, and all the receptors on his back shift to match what they’re being given, and Riz is stupidly, stupidly aroused right now.

Riz can’t even really be mad at Fabian. It’s not his fault. He doesn’t even know his body’s doing it. Most species aren’t as sensitive to secretions as Riz’s is. Genetically, it makes sense, for the same reason the gills make sense, for the same reason the cilia make sense. It’s just harder to do shit in water. You have to produce more, for other people to notice it, and then when they graduated to also-land-walking their bodies accounted for higher sensitivity by producing less chemicals. But humans didn’t do that, so they make so much, so Fabian smells like, just, pure fucking sex, and Fabian is so fucking stupid attractive that Riz would be fighting his body’s responses just from being half-naked in a room with him anyway, but he’s half naked in a room with him and he can smell how much Fabian wants Riz and Riz is going to die here.

And it isn’t helpful that – that his back is making weird genetic freckle maps, because apparently that’s also happening, because Riz’s life is fucked. But it’s showing up or something, because every once a while Fabian will make this little gasp, or he’ll murmur something about “gorgeous” under his breath, and Riz knows it’s not directed at him but he’s already thinking about sex and the idea of Fabian saying shit like that about him and his gross body is. It’s too much, in a situation that is already Too Fucking Much. And Fabian isn’t really into Riz, not really, beyond his initial human instincts that Riz already doesn’t understand at all. And that definitely isn’t consenting. So Riz can’t do anything about it, he just has to lie here and take it and get brought to the unintentional edge over and over by stupid Fabian and his stupid fucking hands.

“Do you need a break?” Fabian says, and his voice is a little rough, and Riz doesn’t have any idea what that’s about but it’s not helping the short-circuit brain.

Riz tries to speak only to find that his mouth is completely dry. He clears his throat. “How – how long have we been going?” he says, and winces at his own wording. He’s linked his hands overtop his head, both in an attempt to keep himself from squirming and to cling to something vaguely resembling a grounding point.

Fabian shifts very carefully, keeping his lower body off of Riz’s. “’Bout 15 minutes,” he murmurs. “Quarter through. Figure – you seem like you’re, you’re, having trouble.”

That is one way to put it. Riz’s mouth is open, to help regulate his temperature, loose and panting in a way that must look obscene to Fabian. It is a losing battle keeping himself together, hips carefully still so he doesn’t accidentally stimulate himself and make this whole situation much worse for everyone. “S-sorry,” he says. “I know it’s. Weird. I’m – “

“It’s okay,” Fabian tries, “It’s just, like, it has to happen, right? There’s no way to get around it.”

“Well – “ Riz bites his tongue before he can move further. Because okay, technically, Adaine is not interested in Riz at all and vice versa so it would probably be way easier on everyone to get her to come down and do it. But – selfishly, despite the obvious discomfort – Riz doesn’t want someone else to do it. Even though it’s driving him out of his fucking mind, he wants it to be Fabian. He wants Fabian to see him, and he wants Fabian not to run away from what he sees, and he wants to know what it’s like to feel Fabian’s hands on him, even in the most innocent of ways.

“Well?” Fabian prompts, when the thought hangs.

A better person would let Fabian off the hook, but Riz is – Riz lets himself indulge so rarely, barely lets himself look. It is so nice, to lie down, and bathe in it, just for once. “If you, uh, wanted to get someone else,” Riz forces himself to say, slowly, teeth grit. “If you – you’re uncomfortable. I would. Get it. I don’t, want you to feel, like – “

“Hey, man – “ Fabian brushes a hand over Riz’s lower back to stop him. Riz isn’t expecting it. He gasps, jolts up, and his hips connect, brief, with Fabian’s, and –

Riz doesn’t know a lot about human anatomy, but he – when he realized his whole stupid thing for Fabian, he had looked up, you know, some basic interspecies porn, just so that he’d have fantasizing material. And he knows that what Fabian has down there is – that when it’s hard, it means – Riz pushes up against it again –

Fabian curls one hand down over Riz’s neck, the other on his hip, pinning him so that he has to stop writhing, so that his jumbled explorations become quick jerks against the table. “Sorry,” Riz gasps, hands tight in his hair once again, burying his face down so he doesn’t have to look at Fabian, “Sorry, sorry, I know it’s, n-not what you, want, oh God, sorry, just – “

“Don’t – I’m sorry, I’m – “ Fabian’s fingers flex where they hold Riz down and the grip makes Riz’s head spin in its own way, loose and tight and commanding all at once. “I’m, taking advantage of, you’re in pain or something, and I’m just, losing it, I’m sorry – “

“You’re not – you’re not hurting me,” Riz gasps, half a laugh. It’d be funny if he wasn’t so embarrassed, turned on, helplessly trying to grind against the table beneath him, fighting to keep himself from moving, from letting his – it’s gross, Fabian would think he looks gross, he can’t, he can’t. “I know, you don’t, you don’t want me, you’re just, you’re so fucking – “

Fabian’s grip goes tighter, and Riz moans out loud, because seal’s broken, right, fuck it at this point. “You think I don’t – why would you think I don’t want you?” Fabian says, and it’s. Not what Riz was expecting to hear. What the fuck. “You’re literally, like, holy shit dude, you’re so – what the fuck, I’m sorry I’m pushing some, like, sex skin or whatever, when you don’t want me, literally it is the opposite problem – “

“It’s a sex thing _because_ I want you,” Riz manages, voice strangled. It’s embarrassing to say, alright, and Fabian is still holding him down, fingers clinging to skin underneath the cilia of Riz’s lower back, and it is too little after the backrub and too much at the same time. “Just – you don’t have to, I’m sorry, you don’t have to keep going, I’m – “

Fabian pulls his hands off and for a moment Riz squirms, cold with the lack of contact. There’s a moment of silence as they breathe, as they take things in. And then – “You want me?” Fabian clarifies, breathless.

Riz tightens his fingers further in his hair. “Yeah,” he mumbles into the table, thankful he at least doesn’t have to look Fabian in the eye for this conversation. “I know it’s – interspecies, and weird, and I’m, my body’s all, like this, and just – you don’t have to, to.” Riz swallows, mouth dry. “You don’t – if you want to, pretend, this didn’t. Happen. That’s fine. I’m great with that.”

There’s a moment of silence. And then – the sound of a lid popping. Riz can feel liquid poured, smooth, over his back.

“It’s a good thing this stuff’s edible,” Fabian says, and Riz wants to ask what the fuck that means, but before he can, Fabian – Fabian _licks up his back._

Riz’s writhe and whine are both full body, a shudder that goes all the way down to his toes. Fabian brings one hand down to push up on Riz’s lower back, the other coming to his neck once again to hold him down. Which is good, because Riz is absolutely losing his fucking mind. When he jerks up this time, Fabian brings his own hips down to meet, grinding against one of Riz’s legs, and he has to be all scrunched up since he’s so much taller but it’s so good, Riz thinks if he could open his eyes he might be cross eyed, that he might be actively ripping his own hair out.

Fabian skates his tongue up and over the shoulderblade, along the edges where flat skin meets cilia, holding Riz down the whole time as he writhes and babbles under Fabian’s gentle kisses. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying, just that it’s a lot of begging, a lot of ‘please’ and ‘Fabian,’ a lot of garbled noises in between. At some point the hand on his neck moves up, to tangle with one of Riz’s hands, to pull Riz up by his own grip in his hair so that he has to sob, open, into the room around them, Fabian panting against him.

He can smell when Fabian cums, rutting against Riz’s leg, still in his own pants. But more than that, Fabian bites down when he does it, forgets himself or something, and the jolt of lightning pleasure down Riz’s spine and the smell of euphoria and the feeling of Fabian bruising, maybe drawing blood – it’s enough to pull Riz right along with him.

The room is silent for a few moments as they recover, both heaving breath, Riz’s head spinning. “In case it wasn’t clear,” Fabian says after a long moment, still half-dazed, “I want you, too.”

Riz laughs, before he can think about it, his fingers finally relaxing the grip on himself as he lets his head drop. “I sure hope so, after that,” he says, and he feels Fabian’s fingers flex against his, body rumbling with his own laugh. “Be kind of an awkward time to let me down easy.”

Fabian titters. “We didn’t get pants off,” he grumbles. “Terrible start. Gonna have to ramp it up for the next session.”

“Map,” Riz breathes, a little fuzzy at the prospect of another round. “I mean, unless you wanna change your pants. That’d be fair.”

“You gonna keep getting worked up while we go?”

Riz nods, not trusting himself to speak. He doesn’t have to look to know Fabian is grinning. “No point in fucking up more than one pair of underwear, then.”

Riz laughs again, a little less surprised but no less sincere, shifting so that he can look up at Fabian from the side of his eyes. “So rude,” he says, a glint in his eye. “Didn’t even take me out to dinner first, or walk me home, or kiss me on the front step.”

“Well, one of those I can remedy,” Fabian grins. When he leans down, Riz rises to kiss him, and they meet in the middle.


	4. navigating boundaries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is not so much porn as it is sappy content that happens to be nsfw-centric so. please take my very specific headcanons on riz gukgak & butts
> 
> also i promise i didnt write like 10,000 words of Sex Stuff in three days i just have a lot of nsfw wips lying around because it is the One type of fiction i cannot rework to fit into st judas somewhere so its just. all lying disparate. with no plans. that's what happens when you're a fan of something for Multiple Months: shit gets writ

Riz likes being on the bottom. Not power-wise. Or at least, not all the time power-wise. There is certainly something to be said about Fabian handcuffing Riz to a drawer and fucking him over his desk, just the same way there is something to be said about putting Fabian’s hand behind his back and making him beg for Riz to ride him. Riz is happy to go either way, power-wise. And like, blowjobs are whatever. It’s mouths, they’re on dicks, that’s fine. No problems there.

But anal. Butt stuff. That’s different. The feeling of it is so good, when Riz gets something inside of himself, he can lose himself in it and forget his hang-ups, babbling and fucking himself on whatever is closest and generally being Not Weird about it. But when it’s someone else’s butt. He just can’t get over the fact that like. Man. That’s a butt. People, like…shit out of there. It’s a butt. And the idea of his fingers or his dick or heaven forbid his fucking mouth going there – without the Feeling to tune it out, Riz is just not on board.

So Riz likes being on bottom. Which is fine! Preferences are preferences, and boundaries are healthy, and the conversation about it was Very Adult And Fine. Fabian likes it both ways, enjoys giving just as much as he enjoys taking it, so it’s not like. A Problem. The sexy times continue to be just as sexy without Riz pushing himself to do stuff that’s uncomfortable.

But Riz is a very insightful man, and a very good investigator. And sometimes – well, sometimes, Fabian really wants to get fucked.

Thus presents a puzzle. It’s enough, really, when Fabian’s in this sort of mood, to order him around a little and mark him up and make him come within an inch of his life. But Riz doesn’t want to be enough. He wants to be – he doesn’t know. More than that. He wants Fabian to get what he needs, and to have a good time. And Fabian has always said that Riz should experiment more, and he has always been right (except for that time they tried food stuff, which was a colossal, if tasty, failure). So Riz needs a plan, for the next time it comes around.

So Riz makes a mental corkboard of what he knows that might be helpful. Fabian likes being watched. He likes performing, and voyeurism. And he has some – some weird jealousy thing that Riz doesn’t super know the specifics of, where he’s into the idea of other people being with them but mostly as an excuse to act possessive and jealous. (And frankly, Riz agrees, because possessive jealous Fabian is really hot.) And he likes – challenges. He likes being restricted, when he can and can’t cum, what he can and can’t do, not physically or anything but just for the challenge of it, to see if he can.

The next time Fabian is in that sort of mood – mid-Saturday, a rare weekend off for both of them, with nothing to do and nowhere to be and the whole day spread out in front of them – when Fabian chases Riz’s mouth, mid-kiss: Riz presses a thumb to his mouth, swallows, and says, “I want – if it’s okay, I have. Something I’d like to try.”

Fabian smiles, a little hazy, lost in the body heat. He’s got his arms on Riz’s hips, straddled on the bed, and they’ve been losing themselves in it for a while – just necking, mouthing idly over each other’s skin, basking in the glory of actually having time for once. Fabian’s shirt is off, but he’s still in his pajama pants, and Riz is still wearing Fabian’s old Owlbears t-shirt that he uses to sleep in. “Exciting,” he hums, pushing up to kiss Riz again. Riz can’t bring himself to stop this time, laughing helplessly as Fabian maneuvers him gently forward, hips flush against each other. “Lay it on me, babe. Do your worst.”

“I don’t know if it’ll be, um – good.” Riz hates being the one to bring up sex stuff. He can’t look Fabian in the eye, fiddling with the edges of his shirt instead, squirming when it draws Fabian’s hungry eye. Part of Riz wants to abandon the idea completely, just ask Fabian to fuck him into the bed until he cries, but he’s determined. He’s gonna be good. He’s gonna try. For Fabian. “It’s – if it doesn’t go good, we can stop, obviously, or if you don’t like the idea, we don’t. Have to.”

“Riz.” Fabian brushes some of Riz’s hair out of his face, smiling, fond and open. Riz’s heart almost bursts on the spot. “I know. Come on.”

Riz looks down and back up again. “I know that you – you said you’re okay, with me, you know. For me to bottom. But I know you want - the same way I just really want you inside me sometimes. That you just. You know. Like that also. And I – “

“Babe,” Fabian’s voice is a little exasperated, if still warm, “I know you’re not into that, I’m not gonna ask you to do that – “

“ – but I – I want to. I think. If we could find a way. Where it’s not actually me. Doing it.” Riz swallows, dry. “I – I want to watch you finger yourself.”

Fabian’s eyes are like saucers. “Uhh,” he says.

“Yeah.” Riz looks down, fingers going tight around Fabian’s wrists. “I figured – if that goes well, maybe we could talk about. Um. I know that – back when you and Gorgug were doing the whole, friends with benefits thing, that was something you did together. And – and I know that, um, that you’ve got all the Ragh fantasies. So if, if watching you goes good, like this, and you wanted, to, we could talk to them and set something up, where maybe I could watch them fuck you, or – “

Riz is cut off when Fabian reverses the grip, captures Riz’s wrists between his own hands, and kisses him, breathless and quick and silencing. “Babe,” he breathes against Riz’s mouth, “I’ll be honest, this sounds – really, really hot. But be honest with me. Is this something you want, or is this something you think I want?”

Riz hesitates, for a moment, eyes flicking down, moving his hands so that they’re equal ground, fingers laced. “Mostly the second,” he admits after a moment, almost guilty. “But – I know you want it, and if I could just find a way that I could make it work, then – “

Fabian taps his wrist. “Be real with me, the Ball. Would you really be into watching me finger my ass?”

Riz hesitates. Because when Fabian says it out loud, Riz thinks of butt stuff again, and that’s no good. Maybe – he could do himself at the same time? So he’s not thinking about it? Or, if he could desensitize himself to it – 

“I can hear you thinking all the way over here, sweetheart.” Riz jumps a little at Fabian’s voice. His smile is still quiet and sappy and a little like he’s rolling his eyes. “Riz, you don’t have to be into everything I’m into. It’s okay. I can still go to porn or get myself off if I need to. It doesn’t always have to be a whole thing.”

“But – “ Riz bites his lip.

It only takes a moment for the silence to get to Fabian. “But?”

Riz frowns, mouth twisting to the side. “I know it’s – stupid,” he mutters. “But I want – I want to be. Enough. For you. I don’t – I don’t want you to hide stuff from me.”

The motion as Fabian flips them over is a surprise, which is the only reason Fabian’s dex beats Riz’s, that he gets pinned to the bed without any real fight. “You are enough,” Fabian says, fierce and hard, glaring at Riz with a sharp frown. “I’m not hiding anything. You know that I like it, and that I do it to myself, and if you wanted to be a part of it you would be welcome. You just don’t want it.” Fabian shifts his weight, so he’s pinning Riz’s body underneath his, the same harsh kindness in his eyes. “You aren’t – not wanting something doesn’t make you lesser, dumbass. Okay?”

Riz glances away, a little guilty. Fabian pulls him back with a hand on his chin, forceful but gentle, and kisses him, and this time it’s all heat, open and dominating, until Riz is whimpering under his grip. “You don’t – you don’t have to change yourself,” Fabian grunts when he pulls back, a string of saliva connecting their lips. “I want you. I want – the parts of you that aren’t there just to make me feel good. Okay? I want you to say no to me sometimes. I want you to trust me with that shit. Okay?”

Riz’s breath gets caught, funny, looking up at Fabian, who is beautiful, and kind of a dumbass, and perfect, and makes Riz’s heart bloom even when he just feels stupid and embarrassed. “…okay,” he whispers, finally.

Fabian looks at him for another hard moment. And then he sighs and leans down. “Guess I’m gonna have to convince you,” he says, reaching down and under Riz’s shirt. Riz can feel Fabian’s smile in his hair when Riz gasps, clings to Fabian’s arm, his hand skating over Riz’s dick. “Stubborn bastard.”

“You like that about me,” Riz mumbles, wiggling in Fabian’s arms.

Fabian kisses his hair. “Yeah,” he says, pulling back to work down Riz’s body. “I do.”


	5. lipstick

Red lipstick is smeared over Fabian’s mouth. He’s smug – leaned back against the pillows, breathless, shirt unbuttoned just enough to tease. Long lashes flutter, his skin smoothed by deep rouge, his eyes emphasized with dark black lines under and around them. He’s the picture of temptation like this – confident, self-righteous, and just barely debauched, perfect for Riz to card hands through his hair and smear the lipstick across his face until he’s wrecked with it.

(_What brought this on?_ Fabian said, laughing, when Riz pushed him up against the doorway, just as soon as they made it to the bedroom, demanding with fingers and mouth, something quick and rough.

_You’re wearing make-up,_ Riz said, staring intently at the matte of Fabian’s lips, like he hadn’t spent the last several hours at dinner memorizing the shape of it, thinking of the way it’d look spread around his dick.

Fabian had smiled. _I sure am. And?_

Riz had kissed him again, brutal, teeth and tongue and unzipping Fabian’s fly before Fabian could catch his hands. _I want to ruin it._)

Fabian’s managed to slow the pace to a tease again, the way he always does. Fabian likes it slow – likes to revel in it, to suck on Riz’s fingers one by one as Riz pops the buttons down his shirt, Riz’s claws dancing over the plane of his chest, not quite hard enough to scratch. He moans around the fingers in his mouth when Riz tweaks a nipple – and Riz knows it’s for the theater of it, that the arch of Fabian’s back and the way his eyes flutter are purposeful, intentional. Fabian is an actor, in bed, more than anything, and even though Riz has the insight to see past it he chooses not to, because the performance is its own delight. Fabian loves so much to be seen, to know that Riz’s eyes are on him – Riz can’t begrudge him that, not when it makes the blush spread deep across his face.

“Fuck,” Riz mutters, pushing his fingers a little deeper into Fabian’s mouth when he’s finally gotten the shirt completely undone. Fabian makes a throaty noise, gently grabs Riz's wrist, swirls his tongue around Riz’s fingers and scrapes lightly with his teeth before pulling off with an obscene pop, lips round and wet and glossy red and _fuck._ “You – you look. Very good.”

“You really like this, don’t you?” Fabian murmurs, some odd mix of amused and awed, looking up under his lashes so that Riz shivers. It’s unusual for Riz to lead – Fabian has the greater libido by far of the two of them, and when Riz is the initiator, more often than not, what Riz wants is to be yanked around and tied up and fucked without mercy. And this feels like it comes from the same place, maybe – something feral, something that has to do with fully giving up on regular thought, something about being good enough to own, to ruin, some very base idea about dominance that makes him feel hot all over. A different way of doing it, maybe, but the same basic idea.

“Don’t pretend you don’t know how hot you are,” Riz grumbles, pushing Fabian’s shirt aside but not off, letting his hands get at the v of his waist, reaching into his pants.

Fabian makes a breathless sort of noise – reaches out to grab the back of Riz’s neck and pull their foreheads together, staring with wide eyes as Riz reaches for his crotch. Riz pushes Fabian’s pants and underwear down just far enough to pull his dick out, jack it slowly with one hand. Seeing Fabian like this – with all of his clothes still on, his shirt hanging off him over his arms, his lipstick smeared at all the angles Riz has kissed it, bitten down and spread out – Riz shudders, again, leans in to kiss him as Fabian’s hand tangles in his hair.

Riz swings his legs over so that he’s fully straddling Fabian’s hips, spits in his hand to make the slide over Fabian’s dick easier. He pushes Fabian down by the chest when he tries to sit up, pressing his thumb in against the tip as he does so that Fabian gasps, flops backwards. “At least – at least take your tie off,” Fabian breathes, hands coming up to rest on Riz’s hips, staring like _Riz_ is the one laid out and debauched and perfect.

Riz fumbles, one-handed, to undo the knot of his tie. After a moment, he makes a frustrated noise and abandons the attempt to multitask, letting go of Fabian’s dick to focus on the tie. He doesn’t take it off completely – Fabian has something of a kink, he’s learned, about ties, the ability to pull Riz around with a tug on it, the way it swings under Riz when he gets fucked from behind. He doesn’t get it, but he’s certainly willing to indulge it. Fabian makes an appreciative noise underneath him as he slides the knot the rest of the way loose, letting the undone tie drape over his shoulders.

Fabian has managed to fumble up while Riz focuses on the tie, undoing Riz’s shirt in kind, pressing his mouth to Riz’s neck as he slides the crisp white fabric off of him, one sleeve at a time. Riz is about to push him against the bed and pout again when Fabian brings that mouth to his ear and whispers, “Gonna leave lipstick stains all over you, babe,” and –

Riz gasps, grinds down as Fabian takes his earlobe between his teeth. Suddenly Riz cannot think of anything but hot red marks along his neck, on his ear, down his arms in between his tattoos, over the length of his torso. It must be a picture, the sight of Riz shirtless rocking into Fabian’s grip, and Fabian is not quiet about his appreciation, humming in Riz’s ear, reaching down to cup him through his pants.

“F-Fabian,” Riz stutters, wrapping his arms loose over Fabian’s shoulder, and – dammit, he’s let Fabian take control again. He pushes weakly on Fabian’s shoulders, makes a guttural noise when Fabian pushes their hips together. “Fabian, please…”

Fabian kisses his ear one more time, gentle, and then lets Riz push him back down onto the bed again, tugging him up so that he’s on Fabian’s stomach instead of his legs. “What do you want, sweetheart?” he says, a little breathless. “Want me to blow you? You wanna fuck my mouth, ruin my pretty face?”

Riz shivers all over, fingers digging into his palms where they rest on Fabian’s upper chest. “I – “ He gasps, rocking back a little, so that Fabian’s dick slides up against his ass, still clothed. He doesn’t miss how Fabian’s grip tightens at the feeling. “I want that, and I want – I want…”

One of Fabian’s hands slide back behind him, under his pants, squeezes his ass over his underwear. “You want to ride me?” he says, looking a little dazed by it, licking his lips. “That what this is all about? You want to use my dick until you come?”

It’s enough to push Riz beyond words. He whines, tucking his face into his shoulder, nods, and mentally curses Fabian out for loving dirty talk so goddamn much. “Yeah,” Fabian breathes, squeezing Riz’s ass again, pushing the balls of his feet into the mattress and grinding up. “Yeah, you want to fuck yourself nice and open on me. Want me to fuck you full of me, yeah? Is that what you want?”

“Y-yes,” Riz gasps when it’s clear Fabian’s waiting for an answer. “Yes, oh god, please.”

Fabian reaches over to dig into the side table, shaking as he pulls out a bottle of lube to hand over. “Condom?” he says, like it takes him physical energy to focus, and he shuts his eyes when Riz shakes his head, like he needs to collect himself. And – fuck, Fabian closing his eyes means Riz can see the glitter on his lids, can see the way he’s lined them with deep black pattern, and fuck.

Riz can’t open himself up fast enough – doesn’t even take the time to take his pants off, just shucks them down far enough that he can push a finger into himself. He’s not as slow or sensual as Fabian is – Riz has always preferred to go hard and unstopping, to fuck himself a little too fast, a little too quick, so it stings, so his head lolls to the side and he writhes with it. He’s not as good at putting on a show as Fabian is, he thinks, so he doesn’t bother to draw it out. Fabian’s eyes are burning against him nonetheless as he stretches himself open, one finger at a time, and when he manages to brush against his own prostrate, Fabian’s grip goes impossibly tight at the jerk of his hips.

The moment he can, Riz pulls his fingers out of himself, presses the bottle of lube into Fabian’s hand. Fabian's barely covered his dick when Riz pushes his hands away and fucks down on it – if he waits Fabian will make him draw it out, slow it down, and everything Riz wants right now is fast and tight and screaming with it, hard as he can manage. Predictably, Fabian grips his hips, forces him to lower a little slower, so that it’s a sting instead of an agony to fuck himself on Fabian. “Fuck,” Fabian breathes as Riz seats himself, eyes blown wide.

Riz isn’t doing much better. He’s leaned forward, resting his weight on his arm next to Fabian’s chest, his hair sweaty and flopped over his face, the tie dangling down obscenely to brush over Fabian’s pecs. “Talk,” he gasps, rolling his hips, grunting at the way Fabian feels pressed up inside of him, toofar and somuch and perfect. “Fuckin’ – talk, talk to me, please, Fabian.”

“Anything,” Fabian breathes, staring at Riz like a worshiper at an alter as Riz lifts himself up, slow, shaking. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. Can’t believe – if I’d known this was how you’d be, I’d have tried make-up so much sooner.”

Riz chokes a laugh that turns into a moan halfway through as he settles up and back down, a short slide up and down Fabian’s dick that pushes too good inside him. “Didn’t know – either,” he gasps, throwing his head back, taking his satisfaction in the way Fabian groans at the sight and the angle. “Don’t know – what – this is?”

“Maybe next time I’ll wear a dress,” Fabian says, and Riz moans, hips jerking a little faster. “Been thinking about it for a while – something sleeveless, black. I’ll get it short, so I can pull up the skirt and fuck you in it.” Riz gasps, loses his pace, sloppy as he pushes up, knees going weak and uncoordinate as he takes his own dick in hand, riding Fabian harder. “Push you – over your desk, maybe, high enough you can’t touch the floor, tie your hands up. So you can’t – you can’t do anything but lie there and take it, can’t touch, or, or – fuck, Riz – “

The noise Riz makes is garbled and only half-present and dazed, and it’s enough, apparently, because Fabian comes, hard, grabs either end of Riz’s tie and yanks him down onto his cock with the grip, grunting as Riz moans through it. Riz pulls out, shaky. Come is dripping down over his thighs as Fabian pushes against the back of his legs, gesturing him to scooch up to Fabian’s chest. Fabian leans down, presses a kiss to the end of Riz’s dick – Riz can see a spot of red-pink left behind with the touch of it –

He comes, immediately, and Fabian lets it hit his face, dripping down over his ruined makeup, open mouth, moaning, and it is the hottest thing Riz has ever fucking seen.

“Jesus Christ,” Riz gasps, bending forward so that his face is hovering over Fabian’s. He balances his forearm on the pillow as Fabian pushes up to kiss him, messy, his hand searching for Riz’s to grasp and interlink fingers.

“So,” Fabian grins when they pull away, “make-up, huh?”

Riz presses their foreheads together and laughs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for an anon on tumblr. here's the thing: fabian seacaster should explore his sexual and gender presentation in a way that is healthy and makes him confident and happy with himself, and riz should find that confidence Very hot.


	6. learning experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> request from an anon for more college-age smut.

“My dad didn’t start to feel attraction until junior year,” Riz blurts out in the silence after he solicits Fabian for casual sex. “Technically, I’m right on track.”

Fabian doesn’t really have anything to say to that – he is too busy sitting down on Riz’s roommate’s bed, temporarily too starstruck by the suddenness and magnitude of what in the fuck Riz is asking of him to respect the personal space. The guy – a little gnome artificer by the name of Jamji that Riz befriended in freshman year, who makes modifications and pieces of gadgets for Riz’s part-time detective work that makes Riz light up, and who makes Fabian feel just disconcertingly angry to be around for no apparent reason – isn’t on campus, anyway, visiting his family in northern Solace for spring break. They have a full week until Fabian has to worry about Jamji.

Worrying about Riz – who is twiddling a pencil between his fingers, sitting on his own bed, staring at Fabian with an intensity and confidence that can only mean he’s nervous as hell – comes more natural. Fabian lets his eyes linger on those fingers – lithe, dexterous, flipping up and over the edges of his eraser in a way that is, just –

“You – you don’t really need me to teach you how to masturbate, do you?” Fabian blurts out, and then winces at himself.

Riz flushes but doesn’t look away. “I’m not – inept,” he snaps, though his fingers have gone impossible tight on his pencil grip. “I just – there’s things I don’t – “ he looks down. “There’s – stuff that I can’t, um, do to myself. That I. Don’t have. The – the experience. And you’ve – had sex before, a lot probably, so if, if you can just, help me – “

Fabian rubs his eyes with the base of his palm. “What – why me?” is the question he finally settles on, after eighteen others flit across his head.

The red-blue flush spreads over Riz’s nose, highlights his freckles, as he looks at Fabian, like he’s lost and Fabian has the leash. “I trust you,” he says simply, and Fabian’s stomach turns over.

It’s a bad idea. It’s – Fabian has a hard enough time now, when he determinedly reminds himself at the beginning of every stray daydream that Riz is not interested in that sort of thing, and that it’s a betrayal of trust. It’s already impossible not to let his eyes linger on Riz’s mouth, when he wets it with his tongue, moist and perfect to touch, Riz’s flexibility as he snoops around that could translate into some real crazy ideas – on Riz’s hands, his fingers, the way they would look ringed around himself. Fabian has had to stop himself from this precise fantasy too many times, of Riz getting down on his knees with wide eyes and wet mouth and saying, _Please teach me how to touch you, no one else has ever seen me like this, I want to be good for you._ This is dangerous territory. Fabian should be smart.

But Riz looks – so hopeful, so trepidatious, so prepared to bolt out the door at the slightest hint. So afraid.

“Okay,” Fabian says before he can think better of it. He watches Riz fully deflate in relief, breath huffing out of him all at once. “Okay. Just – you gotta be open, alright? You gotta tell me exactly what you want, and you gotta tell me to stop right away if you want to stop.”

“Yeah,” Riz says, hurried, beaming with utmost relief at Fabian, so nervous and pleased that it makes Fabian’s stomach roll, again, watching him. “We – and you, too, if you want to stop, don’t. Don’t do shit just for my sake.”

_Not a problem,_ Fabian thinks, but it doesn’t quite reach his mouth, because when he gets up and walks over to the bed Riz makes this little squeak of a gasp, going absolutely still as Fabian brackets him with his arms, boxing him in against the bed. “So what do you want to try?” he murmurs, glancing down at Riz’s legs, the way he’s never let himself before, and it’s – a delight, the way that alone makes a shiver run down Riz’s spine. “What do you want me to do to you?”

Riz’s pupils are enormous, adorable in that cat-like way, and something in Fabian curls up in delight at doing so much with so little. “Could you – “ Riz’s voice is breathless, already; he swallows, setting his pencil aside. “Could we start by – uh, by…is kissing okay?”

Oh, bad idea. _Bad_ idea. That, Fabian absolutely cannot come back from.

Riz’s big wide yellow eyes have gone to Fabian’s lips, and when Fabian licks them, quick, Riz’s mouth hangs open a little, breath going faster. His hands have come up to rest on Fabian’s forearms – he’s warm, sweet, his breath smells like coffee and he’ll probably taste like it, too –

Fabian doesn’t say anything. He presses in.

It’s a couple lingering pecks at first, but Fabian quickly pushes further, lets one of his hands pull off the mattress to brush over Riz’s skin beneath his shirt, opens his mouth just a little, so his tongue traces the seam of Riz’s lips. Riz shudders and responds – clumsily, amateur, but that is almost its own kind of hot, that no one else has ever, _ever_ done this with Riz, _to_ Riz, that Riz is letting Fabian tug on his lower lip with his teeth as they pull away, that Riz has never let anyone else hear him whine like this, seen him want like this. No matter who Riz fucks after this, Fabian will always be the first. It goes straight to Fabian’s dick, the idea of Riz coming apart under him, of getting to touch and see parts of Riz that no one else ever has.

They’re both breathing hard when they pull away – at some point, Riz has wrapped his arms around Fabian’s neck; goosebumps pepper his skin where Fabian’s hand has a hold of his hip, and his legs part when Fabian steps forward, just a little, so that his own knees are pressed to the mattress. “So that’s one,” he says, voice a little low, watching Riz with hooded eyes. “What’s two?”

Riz winces and looks to the side – opens his mouth, closes it. And then he looks up, determined, so he and Fabian meet gazes. “I – hickeys,” he says, voice set. “I don’t know if I would like – getting them, or giving them. So – “

Fabian can’t keep himself from groaning at that, letting his eyes flutter shut. “You’re killing me, Riz,” he mutters, and he feels Riz’s nervous laugh against him. Like the idea of Riz’s fucking teeth haven’t kept him up more nights than once. “Try being on the biting end, first, yeah? You’ll have to bite harder than you’d think – it takes a lot of pressure to bruise someone.”

Riz doesn’t need any more encouraging, attacking Fabian’s neck with the full goblin appetite that he usually takes to his food with, and it’s Fabian’s turn to shudder, pliant, under him, as Riz definitively does not hold back. Fabian’s grip on Riz’s hip has gone impossibly tight – it must hurt, but Riz doesn’t stop, not even when he must have made a bruise already, just picks a different part of Fabian’s neck and starts all over again, until Fabian is hard enough for it to hurt, rocking instinctively in against Riz’s crotch, delighting in the primal noise it drags from Riz’s mouth.

Fabian finally finds the strength to tug Riz by the hair, to pull him off so that they’re looking at each other again – and he can’t help but kiss Riz again, quick, demanding, messy. “I’ll take it that’s a ‘yes’ on giving hickeys, then,” he says, his voice low and dark.

Riz slides his hand over to the side of Fabian’s collarbone, traces the edges of the marks he’s started leaving, eyes fixated. Fabian can feel Riz’s dick against his own, just as hard, if not harder, and it is all of his physical restraint not to grind forward, to make Riz come, quick and messy, in his pants, just from marking Fabian up and a little friction. “Yeah,” he says, and his voice is shaking.

It’s just about it for Fabian. He makes a growling noise that he didn’t know he was capable of and gathers Riz up into his arms, throwing him back onto his pillows so that Fabian can hover over him, on hands and knees, too fast for Riz to do anything but gasp and moan in response. “What’s three,” he says, low, because he will get to marking Riz up later, right now he needs something.

Riz shudders under his gaze, hair splayed out under him, glasses askew where Fabian’s forcibly moved him, his shirt messy so that Fabian can see the edges of his stomach, can see how far down the dark green blush goes. “I can’t – “ He shifts around, takes a deep breath, and displays his hand. Fabian’s stomach rolls looking at it – sharp claws, that would feel so fucking good raking down his back, clinging as Fabian makes Riz fucking _scream_. “I can – d-dicks are one thing, I can, do that, um, on my own, but – there’s, um, something I want to try, that, uh, I, I can’t – and my claws grow back too fast, and it hurts when I cut them, so I, I want, to try – “

Fabian’s mind goes completely blank. “You – want me to finger you?” he says when he remembers how to speak, and Riz tucks his face into his shoulder, squirming in embarrassment.

“I – I cleaned, I can at least do that, I looked up, um, a t-tutorial – don’t fucking laugh, or I’ll kick your ass – but I, I just want, people say it’s good, a-and you,” he looks up, and Fabian is vividly reminded of his sophomore fling with Ragh, of Riz asking quizzically why Fabian was limping and Fabian smugly saying it was worth it. “You don’t have to, just – “

“Riz.” He rests his forehead on Riz, makes him look Fabian in the eyes. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” Riz breathes, and that’s all Fabian needs to hear.

They haven’t talked about dirty talk yet – haven’t talked about so many kinks, what if Riz wants to get tied up, what if Riz wants to get gagged, what if Riz wants to ride him and call him _daddy,_ and oh boy that’s a whole can of worms he’s not ready to open – but Fabian physically cannot help himself, as he tugs Riz’s shirt off over his head, putting his glasses in even further disarray. “Fuck,” he says, tugging Riz’s stupid skinny jeans off, the ones Fig bought him in high school that still fit, worn and tight against him. “Fuck, you have no idea how fucking hot you are, do you?”

Riz makes a surprised kind of noise through his noise, but it cuts off sharp when Fabian pulls his underwear off, when Riz’s dick bobs up against his stomach and Riz has to bite his lip to keep from making noises. Fabian allows himself to trace up the length of it, just once, with a finger, to rim around the head of his cock as Riz’s face goes bright with how hard he’s trying to keep himself silent, before he moves on, fingers pressing lower.

“Do you have lube?” Fabian says, because he really does want this to be good for Riz, and Riz fumbles, next to him, reaching under his pillow and grabbing a bottle that looks vaguely familiar.

Fabian takes his time drizzling the lube over his fingers, letting it warm up to his touch so that it isn’t such a surprise. “I’m gonna start with one,” he says, pulling Riz’s legs up and then shoving them apart. Riz nods, almost too quick, too hard, and Fabian’s mouth twitches. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s gonna feel really gross for the first couple minutes. We’re gonna go slow. You say slower and we do, you say stop and we do. Okay?”

“I got it,” Riz breathes, spreading his shaky legs further apart. Fabian uses the hand that isn’t covered in lube to tug Riz’s hands down, kisses him, breathes “Hold yourself open, baby.” Riz’s whole body shakes at the pet name, as he reaches down, putting his hands on his cheeks, pulling them apart so that Fabian has a nice view of his asshole.

“Fuck,” Fabian breathes again, running a finger over the hole, not pushing in, just letting Riz feel the touch, arch into it. “So fucking gorgeous. No one’s ever fucked you before, yeah?” He pushes the first part of his finger in, kisses the side of Riz’s dick when he stiffens at the intrusion, breath caught in his throat. “Gonna ruin this hole. Gonna fuck you so wide open that you’ll be fucking dripping with it.” Riz whines as Fabian pushes his finger in fully, bit by bit. “Gonna get you addicted to my fingers, so you can’t live without my cock inside you.”

The breathless noises that Riz has been holding back are escaping now. It’s a surprise – a delightful one; Fabian’s first time bottoming, it took ages to adjust to having something inside him, but Riz’s dick is jumping with every twitch of Fabian’s finger, legs tensed up around Fabian’s torso. “God, you’re taking it good,” Fabian breathes, starting up a slow pace with one finger, waits for the inevitable complaints, gets Riz arching his back and panting instead. “No time at all. You were fucking made for this. Made to be a cockwarmer, to spend all day stretched out ‘till I can fuck you like you need.” He tries a second finger, just to see what Riz’ll do, and what Riz does is _sob,_ scrabble against his own legs and push down to get Fabian further inside him. “You’re so fucking slutty for it,” Fabian breathes, eyes darting across every piece of Riz’s body – trying to memorize the arch of his back, the cling of his claws into his own skin, the shaking of his thighs, the way he is looking at Fabian. “How tight are you gonna be around my dick, huh? When I fuck you ‘till you cry?”

Fabian expects Riz to have a quick trigger – he hasn’t had a chance to build up any endurance. But he’s never seen someone come with nothing on their dick, just from something inside them. So when he comes back in with a third finger cold and his fingers punch up against something that makes Riz howl, when he leans down and growls, “You want everyone in here to know I’m fucking you?” and presses deep and hard against Riz’s prostate, it still catches him by surprise when Riz arches up and comes all over his chest, making a garbled sort of half-shout that is unmistakably Fabian’s name.

Fabian eases his fingers out slow as Riz comes down, as Riz’s chest heaves underneath him. It’s nothing at all to reach down and press a hand over his own jeans, any touch a blessing after the goddamn high theater Riz has just put on. He groans at the first touch, pops the button of his jeans – god, he just got Riz naked and fucked him for the first time without taking any of his clothes off, he didn’t even realize that was a thing he was into but now he’s thinking about it and it’s _unbearable._

Riz comes back to himself as Fabian pulls his dick out, chest still heaving but eyes half-focused, lingering on Fabian’s hair, face, down to his cock. “You – “ Riz pulls his legs apart, reaches down and spreads his cheeks again, just the way Fabian taught him. “Y’ gonna fuck me?” he slurs, breath catching, and his spent dick twitches.

Fabian has to close his eyes to keep a hold of himself. “Not today,” he says when he physically can say anything other than _yes, god, you’re so hot._ He bites his tongue as he opens his eyes again, meeting Riz’s gaze, the crease of his eyebrows. “You’re not – today’s about you. Yeah? Not me.”

“But I – “ Riz’s breath catches, and he squirms in place, embarrassed even now, holding himself open and covered in come. “I want it,” he breathes, looking up at Fabian. Anyone else might think Riz is being calculated, but Fabian knows that when Riz reaches up, dips a curious finger into his own come, sucks it off with hollowed cheeks, that it is entirely, unintentionally sexy. “Don’t you want me?” Riz says, sitting up so that Fabian can see how ruined he is, the way some come managed to land on his glasses so that it’s dripping white over his vision. He falls forward, catches himself on Fabian’s bicep, kisses him, sloppy. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

Fabian should’ve known, he thinks, that if Riz ever started wanting sex, he would be some kind of – of sex demon, just every temptation in the world rolled up into one fucked-out hot goblin. “Christ, Riz,” Fabian says, voice strained, “you’re not making this fucking _easy.”_

Riz pushes down to lave over the bruises he made earlier with his tongue, and Fabian’s hips jolt, so that his dick comes into contact with Riz’s thigh, just brief, not enough. “D’ you want me to beg?” Riz murmurs, kissing down his neck. “Please, please fuck me. Want you to split me open on your cock. Wanna be good for you – I can be, I can be so good, I’ll do whatever you tell me, want you, _hng,_ want you to fuck me ‘til I scream, ‘til I can’t do anything but take it, whatever you give me.” He presses up and over against Fabian’s ear, bites down, gentler but not by much, rolls Fabian’s earlobe between his teeth. “Please, _please,_ fuck me, call me a slut, fuck, I’ll be so tight for you, I’ll be so good, mark me up so everyone knows you did it and no one else ever has, fuck me hard, please, _Fabian.”_

Fabian’s hand has been speeding up with every word, and he can’t help himself now, growling, grabbing Riz by both of his beautiful, perfect fucking hips and dragging him down until when Fabian fucks upwards his dick brushes over Riz’s ass – Riz moans, like he’s drugged on it, and Fabian pulls his cheeks apart and fumbles for a moment before he presses upwards.

He doesn’t fuck Riz, not fully – just pushes in the head, rocks out and back in, a tease on the edge of the fullness Riz wants. Riz bubbles a gasp into Fabian’s shoulder, sobbing wet into his shirt. “Please, yes, please, fuck me, oh _god,_ Fabian,” and when Fabian leans in and bites his neck Riz comes, untouched, a second time, makes a noise that has Fabian pulling out and jacking himself past the edge and snarls “mine” so that he covers Riz’s stomach in even more spunk, whining and writhing on top of him.

It doesn’t took Fabian nearly is long to come down as it does Riz – his first, instinctive thought is panic. “Oh my god I didn’t put lube on my dick,” he says. Riz, whose face has pressed into his chest, snorts. “It’s not funny – oh my god, did I hurt you? Are you okay? Turn around. Holy shit. I didn’t even – there was no condom, I could’ve – “

“It's fine. You didn’t even come inside me,” Riz grumbles, but he lets Fabian rearrange him onto his stomach, so Fabian can check to make sure nothing’s bleeding, canting his hips back as Fabian runs his fingers over Riz’s hole to make sure.

“I didn’t mean for it – to hurt,” Fabian says, flipping Riz back over, pulling his glasses off the way they probably should’ve done at the beginning of all this. He stumbles to a stand, walks over to Riz’s pile of shower stuff and grabs a washcloth, hastily throws his jeans back on so that nobody in the dorm hallways will get an unexpected eyeful. “I’m sorry, it was supposed to be good for you, I just – “

Riz silences him with a hand on his arm, stopping Fabian’s stammers in their tracks. They look at each other for a moment, Riz’s eyes soft and serious. “Thank you,” he says, quiet but sincere.

Fabian nods dumbly. “I’m – gonna go wet down this washcloth,” he says, a little lame. “To wipe you off. I’ll be – right back. And I’ll grab some water. Okay?”

“Okay,” Riz says.

Fabian stumbles out, closes the door, bangs his head against the wall, and thinks about Riz in his lap, begging for his dick.

This was a _bad idea._


	7. on the sexual origins of goblins TWO

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a sequel to the longer fic, 'on the sexual origins of goblins,' for the dearest flip, whomst i love.

It takes another two rounds – one in the shower, Fabian on his knees, fitting Riz’s dick against his cheek until cum streaks down his forehead, washed off with soap and water; and one in the bathroom after the shower, against the sink, Riz’s face tugged up to watch in the mirror what he looks like when Fabian fucks him from behind – before Riz settles down enough to conk out on the couch, snoring softly. No wonder Riz was so hungry. (Wait – does food turn into cum? That doesn’t sound right. Why is Riz so hungry? How can he have such a high libido when he usually has a sex drive of .002? Fuck it, how can he have such a high sex drive without exhausting himself to death? Fabian doesn’t understand this holiday.)

Fabian takes the brief reprieve to wiggle out of Riz’s tight grasp (like he’s holding a teddy bear, Fabian thinks fondly, when Riz sleepily reaches out for him as he moves) and checks the fridge. Riz had gobbled down most of the cheese danishes Fabian brought him right away, and had obviously still been hungry after. He could only be more hungry now that they’d fucked, and Fabian definitely hadn’t brought enough food for a full day of starving Riz.

It’s when he pulls open the fridge that Fabian is vividly reminded that he has no idea how to cook. He puffs out a cheek, scanning up and down. There’s…milk? Milk is in food sometimes. Would that be bad for, like, congestion, though? What if Riz needs special diet food for the day? But the cheese was fine…he’s already had cheese, maybe avoid more dairy products? They don’t keep vegetables. Ice cream! Ice cream – is a dairy product, fuck. Why is so much of the world made of milk! Fabian makes an immediate vow to donate to whatever charity to aid lactose intolerance he can find in the morning.

The smart thing to do, he thinks, is to call someone to deliver. It’s only early afternoon – almost everywhere is open, and there’s definitely some fast food that he could use postmates to get for cheap. That cleanly avoids Fabian having to confront his failure as a potential house husband, and also means he can go curl up with Riz on the couch and nap for a while. And not cook with a boner. Probably, cooking with a boner is dangerous. Maybe. (It’s not his fault! He’s got good recovery time, but not that good. If he comes every time Riz comes, they won’t get anywhere.)

The problem is that Fabian…is allowing himself some small delusions about what this means for himself and Riz. He doesn’t really know if Riz’s whole demisexual he’s-only-attracted-to-people-he’s-in-love-with thing is, like, overridden? By the weird goblin sex holiday? But he hopes not. He’s pretending it’s not. It’s not. Riz is not just saying whatever he thinks will get someone in bed with him because he really needs to fuck, he really does love Fabian, and was thinking about him specifically. That is what Fabian is telling himself, because it makes him feel good.

And if Riz tries to jump the first delivery guy that knocks on the door, it’s gonna blow a pretty big hole in Fabian’s running theory.

Okay. They have jelly. Now, if they haven’t run out of bread, and if Fabian can find the peanut butter…

A pair of arms wrap around his waist. “Mmmfhm,” Riz mutters into Fabian’s back as he presses his face against him.

Fabian feels himself smile even without anyone to see. “Hey, baby,” he says, reaching around to pat Riz’s hair as he pulls the half-empty jar of jelly out. “Hungry?”

“S’thin’ like that,” Riz slurs. Riz has always been cute when he’s tired, squinty-eyed and messy haired, but the way he looks right now as Fabian turns around in his grip, squinting up, standing on his toes, half-heartedly trying to pull Fabian down into a kiss, one of the ratty shirts Fabian uses when he’s working on his motorcycle drooping down his shoulders and long socks on because it’s still winter he has to wear something warm, Fabian insisted, and Riz looked up with that wet mouth and begged to be fucked again…

Fabian comes down easy, kisses Riz. It’s languid – Riz must not have gotten hit with another wave yet. “Careful,” he murmurs against Riz’s lips. “A guy could get used to this.”

“Mmmm.” Riz reaches up to press his nails to the back of Fabian’s neck, and the kiss turns sharp and deep, all of a sudden, Riz’s tongue and hands too rough in a way that has Fabian moaning, distracted.

Fabian pushes him away. “None of that,” he says, breathless, at Riz’s puppy-dog eyes, like he wasn’t just mauling Fabian’s lower lip. “We’re not fucking again until you eat something.”

“I know what you could make me eat.” Riz’s eyes glimmer as he reaches down to Fabian’s underwear.

Fabian slaps his hand away. “Not all of us can come eighteen times in an hour. Sit down and wait.” He pushes Riz gently over towards the little table they keep in their kitchen.

Riz must roll a bonkers stealth, because Fabian hasn’t noticed that he isn’t following directions until he’s reaching into the cabinet for the jar of peanut butter and feels a hand pull his dick out of his boxers, feels breath hot and wet over the veins of his cock, and promptly drops the peanut butter jar on the counter, scattering spice bottles. “Riz – “ Fabian starts, but then he looks down, and –

Riz licks his lips with a wet pop, looks up at Fabian, his mouth just a centimeter away from Fabian’s dick, close enough that it would take nothing at all for Fabian to reach down and push him into it, to trail his dick over Riz’s face until he can’t even see with how messy Fabian’s made him. “Come on,” he breathes, skating his tongue up a vein, open-mouthed and hot.

Fabian doesn’t know when he started clutching the counter, fingers tight and hands shaking with the effort not to reach down and shove Riz onto his cock. He’s so hard, has been since before he fucked Riz the second time, and he thought he had a careful control of it but at one lick he’s absolutely falling apart, legs shaking where Riz has reached out to hold them. “You know that’s been in your ass,” he says, humor betrayed by the way his voice shakes.

He expects Riz to wrinkle his nose, so Fabian can laugh and tell him to sit down and make him lunch, but instead Riz moans, grabs Fabian’s dick and presses it against his nose, lets it trail against his cheek as he pushes in to lick over Fabian’s balls, and Fabian’s really going to do something stupid if Riz doesn’t stop soon. “God, I know,” he breathes, like the blatant sanitary issues are driving him fucking crazy. “Y’ fuck me so good. So full.” He lets his lips circle around the head of Fabian’s cock, moves it so that it pops out against his cheek, so that when Fabian slides forward he’s not going into Riz’s mouth, not quite – just moving through his lips, coming out the other side to trail pre-cum over his cheek where Fabian can’t stop himself from thrusting. Riz looks up at him with thin lashes that Fabian wants to cover in cum. “Didn’t you like it? Didn’t you like fucking me?”

Fabian has to close his eyes and take a deep breath to keep from just flipping Riz over and fucking him into the kitchen floor. _It’ll be hard on his knees,_ he reasons to himself, _it’ll be cold, he’ll be uncomfortable, and you’ll feel bad, and you might knock the peanut butter jar onto your heads while you’re fucking, and oh god fuck he’d look so good spread out on the floor with his face shoved into the tile, fuckfuckfuck._

“You were so good,” Riz breathes, and there’s something about his gaze that was missing the first few rounds – a clarity, an insight, the type of searching Riz does to find a secret or a clue. This is, Fabian realizes in horror, not just about getting Riz off anymore. Riz is figuring out how to get _Fabian_ off. “You were so perfect for me, you fuck me so nice. Love how you feel inside me. Love how your fingers felt, how your cum felt.”

Fabian’s legs are shaking. This is – this is not a thing he realized about himself, that this was a thing that he was into. But of course, Riz, beautiful, perfect, brilliant Riz, who is focusing on getting Fabian off, even when he’s so badly in need of getting himself off that he’s losing his mind over it – of course he sees things Fabian can’t. “Riz,” he starts, half a sob, breath catching.

“You’re so good,” Riz murmurs, eyes dark, stroking Fabian’s thigh under his boxers, licking up the side of his dick. “You gonna be a good boy for me, Fabian? Gonna be my good boy?”

_“Fuck,”_ Fabian gasps, slamming his fist down against the counter. He’s hunched all the way in half, forehead pressing to the counter as Riz pulls his lips over his teeth and engulfs Fabian’s cock halfway down, spit-soaked and messy, letting himself drool down his chin as he pushes all the way into his gag reflex. Fabian’s hips jerk, instinctively, and Riz moans as he’s choked, like it’s the hottest thing in the world, and oh god, Riz is so fuckin’ hungry for it, Riz is jacking himself off to sucking Fabian’s dick, that’s –

Fabian slides a hand into Riz’s hair and tugs him off, eyes and teeth clenched, breathing hard, right on the fucking edge, trying desperately not to think about Riz’s hands, his face, his mouth – oh god oh fuck oh god –

“Fabian?” Riz says, half-confused, half-breathless.

Fabian cracks an eye open. Riz’s hand on his own dick has slowed down, and he’s biting his lip where his spit is starting to dry, looking up lost at Fabian. “Don’t you want this?” Riz says, the previous confidence of his voice swerving as he looks up, eyebrows knit and confused.

Fabian lets out a pained half-laugh. _“Yes,”_ he grits out between his teeth when he trusts himself to talk again. “Just – give me – a – second.”

Riz frowns at him. He leans in towards Fabian’s dick – Fabian jerks his head back, quick, too hard, his hand banging loud into the side of the counter. “Shit!” Fabian gasps, letting go completely, taking a step back. “S-sorry, I didn’t – mean – “

Riz shakes the movement off, blinking up at where Fabian is now a few steps away, desperately trying to will himself to not come all over Riz’s face right now. “Did I do something wrong?” Riz says, blinking wide, and god it is so fucked that that isn’t making Fabian’s boner go down at all, the sight of Riz all lost and looking for guidance from him.

Fabian presses his hand into his mouth for something to bite down on, closes his eyes, takes a few deep breaths. “I – I’m fine,” he says, shaky, after a few more moments of getting himself together, like his dick isn’t still buzzing with the spit drizzled over it. “Go – go sit down. I’m making food.”

Riz shuffles forward, frown deepening. “But I want – “

_“Riz, if I come right now I’m not gonna be able to get it up fast enough to fuck you after we eat, please for the love of Christ sit down for three minutes and I promise I will fuck you so hard we break the fucking table.”_

It takes a moment for Riz to process this before Fabian can hear him take in a shaky breath. “Oh,” he says, like a discovery, and then his hands are on Fabian’s legs again, and Fabian just said it, he’s not gonna take responsibility if Riz doesn’t listen to him now –

“Okay,” Riz says, and presses a kiss to Fabian’s knee. Then he gets up and walks over to the kitchen table.

It takes another minute for Fabian to collect himself enough to open his eyes. When he does, Riz is sitting obediently at the table. His eyes are trained, dark, to Fabian as he moves, a small smile on his face as Fabian shakily makes his way back to the counter.

It takes twice as long as it should for Fabian to gather supplies and make sandwiches – he makes three, in the end, though he waffles when he finishes the second one, glancing over at where Riz is staring hungrily at him; better safe than sorry, and Fabian’s hungry, too. It occurs to him too late, setting two sandwiches in front of Riz to gobble down and sitting with his own on the other corner of the table, that he might not have been able to pick a less sexy food. Riz was just trying to suck Fabian’s dick, and now he’s going to have peanut butter stuck to the roof of his mouth. He gets up, grabs them both a glass of…_milk, dammit._ He grabs two glasses of milk and sits back down to eat.

The plus side of the peanut butter is that it forces Riz to eat a little slower, because even when he’s having a perfectly normal day, Riz eats so fast it can’t be healthy. The slower chewing and the required breaks for sips of milk means that Riz finishes his second sandwich about the same time Fabian finishes his first. Riz slams down the rest of his milk as fast as possible, discards it on the table, and pushes Fabian’s chair out to climb in his lap, apparently too impatient to wait any longer. “I ate,” he says, almost a growl, “now can we - ?”

Fabian reaches up and kisses him – tender, even as Riz tries to push it, grasping Riz’s wrist and forcing him to slow down. Fabian pulls away, looks at Riz, and grins. “You have a milk mustache.”  
Riz blinks at him – and then snorts, shoulders shaking, leaning against Fabian as he bursts into giggles. “God dammit,” he chokes out between laughs, “I’m trying to be hot, just – “

“You are hot.” Fabian kisses Riz’s cheek, nose, forehead, doing his best to tongue the peanut butter off his own teeth without Riz noticing before they get to the good part. “And funny. Sex should be fun, y’know?”

Riz clings a little tighter, chuckles slowing as Fabian’s hands come up to rest on his hips, as Riz rocks down into Fabian, idle. “I know,” Riz breathes, pulling back to wipe the milk off his mouth with the back of his arm, giving Fabian an idle grin. “I know, it’s – I know it doesn’t have to be, all, just.” He presses his forehead to Fabian’s, closes his eyes, mouth wet and open as he takes a deep breath, the edges of it raw where Fabian’s dick pushed in earlier, Fabian’s stomach jolting at the sight of it. “Please,” Riz breathes, finally, apparently losing whatever train of thought he’d been on, opening his eyes, half-lidded, grinding down in Fabian’s lap. “Just, just please, please.”

Fabian starts the kiss, this time, and he still has to slow Riz down but they manage to find a middle ground between them, hot but slower, soothing but tight. “I know, baby,” Fabian murmurs into Riz’s mouth, digging his fingers in under Riz’s shirt. “I told you we’d break the table, yeah? Wanna get up there for me?”

Riz moans, grinds down, reaches down and grabs Fabian’s dick in his hand, so Fabian’s stomach jolts. “Don’t want – “ he gasps, into Fabian’s mouth, rolling down so that Fabian’s dick slides up against the crack of his ass, catches just barely on the edge of his hole. “Just, god, just fuck me into the floor, please.”

The image of Riz collapsed onto his shoulders as Fabian fucks him, faced smeared into the floor by Fabian’s hand, arching his back and moaning and fucking taking it, returns, unbidden, into Fabian’s mind. His fingers go tighter on Riz’s waist as he groans, pulling back for a moment from the kiss to take a deep, steadying breath. “That’s not gonna be – comfortable,” he says, voice shaking, “for you, we should probably, at least move to the room with carpet – “

“God, shut _up,”_ Riz groans, and pushes in to kiss Fabian again – and this time, there’s no slowing him down, hot and wet and scrabbling to pull Fabian’s underwear off completely, yanking at his hips to help him shimmy them down over the chair and throw them aside. Fabian thinks he’s done something wrong until he feels Riz’s hard dick brush against his stomach, smearing pre cum. “You’re so – fucking – thoughtful, god, just – Jesus, Fabian.”

Fabian hesitates, frowns a little, and decides to settle on his go-to solution to sex things he doesn’t understand – dirty talking about it until someone tells him to shut up. “Does that get you off?” he says, a little hesitant, curious. “Me – what, thinking about you?”

_“Yes,”_ Riz groans, pressing his face into Fabian’s shoulder. “I want you to, to, f-fucking push my legs up to my face and raw me, I know you want to do it, but you _won’t,_ you’re so fucking, you care, so much, hnng, about, what I want – fuck, you stopped yourself from cumming because, because you knew I wanted you to fuck me, just, you just keep – “

Fabian has to admit he’s lost the plot a little. That said, understanding why a thing is hot does not make a thing less hot, and he is still incredibly hard, pushing up as Riz pushes down, mindlessly grinding without purpose, mouths pressed adjacent. “I keep what?” he says, breathless, watching Riz bounce on his lap, in Fabian’s overlarge shirt, with Fabian’s marks on his neck, whining Fabian’s name, trying so hard to keep his hands from going too tight.

Riz reaches down and presses Fabian fully against his hole – slides down, just an inch, just a fucking tease, so that they both shiver and cling to each other. “You keep holding back,” Riz breathes, sloppy. “For _me._ I could – I could say you weren’t allowed to come until I did and you wouldn’t, would you?” He presses Fabian’s hair out of his face, because Fabian’s eyes have suddenly gone very wide, mouth parted and still. “I could tell you to pull out and suck my dick and you’d do it right now, wouldn’t you? Or, or, I could – tell you how to fuck me, and you’d fucking do it. Exactly like I said.” He pushes in, kisses Fabian, and Fabian is helpless to Riz’s grip, his mouth, his words. “You want to be good for me, don’t you?”

“Riz,” Fabian says, a little desperate, on the edge of breaking.

Riz bounces all the way down onto Fabian’s cock and back up, gorgeous and smooth and hot, throwing his head back and moaning, dick peeking out from under his shirt, under Fabian’s shirt that the head of his cock is rubbing against and staining. “You would let me do anything to you,” Riz breathes, his hands tight against Fabian’s neck. And then he leans in, and bites down, and says, “I want to make you lose that fucking control and _fuck me.”_

It’s such a weird, big, complex mix of love, and lust, and being told what to do, and giving into what he wants, and Riz, gorgeous, and intelligent, kissing him sharp and slow and sloppy and fast, and Fabian doesn’t, he can’t, Riz reaches down to yank his balls as he rides Fabian and he _can’t –_

He doesn’t know the in between – just knows that one moment they’re on the chair and the next Riz is fully splayed out on the floor, face-down, half stunned. Fabian yanks his hips up with a rough grip so that he’s ass-up; when Riz tries to get up on his elbows Fabian shoves his head down so it hits the floor, spanks him hard on the ass, and part of him is panicking but the way Riz fucking _moans._ “You want me to fuck you?” Fabian says, kicking Riz’s legs apart, desperate and hot. “You really want me to fuck you into the floor, ‘til you can’t fucking take it?”

“Please,” Riz gasps, wiggling his hips, and moans when Fabian slaps his ass again.

Fabian leans over Riz, so that he’s plastered over his back, kisses the back of his neck under his hair, just to feel Riz shiver under him. “You fucking slut,” he says, affectionately, and Riz’s moan goes choked off as Fabian shoves all the way in.

It’s hard and fast and the exact opposite of everything Fabian usually does, no regard whatsoever to anything but chasing his own pleasure, and it’s – exactly what Riz wants, scrabbling his hands against the tile, moaning with each thrust. Fabian gets the irrational urge to take his hands away – so he does, doesn’t think about it, because that’s what Riz wants, that’s what he wants; he yanks Riz’s arms up from under him, so his face drops onto the floor, uses the grip on his forearms back to pull him up. The strain has to be uncomfortable on his shoulders but Riz moans for more, hiccupping each time Fabian fucks in again, a long, strained _“Fu-u-u-u-u-u-ck”_ that changes pitch each time Fabian nails him.

“You asked for this,” Fabian growls, yanking Riz a little further up, pulling him back on his cock as he goes, Riz gasping underneath him, so fucking loud. “What do you say? What do you say to people who do you fuckin’ favors?”

“Th-thank yo-ou,” Riz sobs, doing his best to push Fabian’s dick deeper inside him.

Fabian thrusts sharper. “I didn’t fucking hear you.”

_“Thank you!”_ Riz shouts.

Fabian lets his arms go, shoves him back into the floor, lets himself completely fucking lose it. “Thank you for what?” he says, taking Riz’s hair into a tight knot between his fingers, shoving his face into the dirty floor. “Thank you for fucking you like you deserve, huh? Thank you for filling you up like you were fucking made for, thank you for giving your stupid slut hole the dick you fucking crave?” And, when Riz just moans, he shoves his face down harder, slaps his ass, and snarls, _“Say it.”_

“Thank you for giving my – “ Riz gasps; tears are trailing down his face now, but he’s still hard, he hasn’t said stop, he hasn’t even said slow down, he’s just turned his head and looking up at Fabian like Fabian’s given him the world. “Thank you for giving my s-stupid slut hole the dick I f-fucking crave, oh fuck, _Fabian - !”_

Fabian coming sets Riz off – another thing about today that Fabian previously thought only existed in porn – and it’s only the one orgasm but it’s stronger than any of the ones Riz has had so far, arching his back, open mouthed and noiseless as he comes all over the kitchen floor. When they’ve both ridden it out, Fabian lets Riz’s hands go, settling him gently on his side as he pulls out, kissing Riz’s shaking, exhausted face.

“You okay?” Fabian murmurs, leaning in to press kisses to Riz’s cheek, forehead, eyes. “Is that – what you wanted?”

Riz looks ready to drop for another nap, but he smiles and pulls Fabian down, kisses him soft and languid, the way Fabian wants him to, pushing affection through every movement. “You’re perfect,” Riz mutters against Fabian’s mouth, and despite the amount of paper towels Fabian is going to need for the kitchen floor, he finds himself smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not posting nsfw on ao3 anymore - follow my nsfw tumblr @demisexualriz instead!


	8. tumblr prompt pt 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the tumblr prompt: 15. “just let me finish this and I swear I will go down on your ___ and make you cum three times.”

“Just let me finish this and I swear I will go down on your dick and make you cum three times.”

The hand snaking down the collar of Riz’s shirt pauses. There’s a moment before Fabian rests his forehead on Riz’s neck, arched over the back of his chair, shoulders shaking as he suppresses silent laughter. “What, like, in a row?” he finally manages, grinning underneath it.

“Sure, since apparently, you’re insatiable,” Riz snaps. He’s got a rubber band between two of his fingers that he’s picking at, scowling at the bright screen of his laptop in the otherwise dark room.

Fabian wants to say that _he_ isn’t the insatiable one. Libido comes to Riz in brief waves, once every few months or so, and even after years, he’s still not great at figuring out when his body has decided it’s Time To Feel Sexual Attraction. But Fabian has become quite an expert at it. It had freaked him out a little at first, not because there was anything weird about it but because he didn’t want to have sex with Riz when Riz didn’t want it, holy shit. (Which had turned out to be a moot point – Riz still enjoys sex, in his own way, when he isn’t geared up. He just doesn’t need it in the same way.) So when Riz starts falling back into his old repression habits, staying up with research grants well into the morning and chugging coffee nonstop, Fabian knows what’s going on.

“You’re the one who brought up sex,” he says. Riz doesn’t like addressing it directly, a lot of the time. Fabian doesn’t know for sure, but he thinks it’s probably scary for him, admitting to this thing he doesn’t know how to want and can’t control. Fabian presses his mouth to the edge of Riz’s jaw, lets his lips brush over the stubble there, deftly pops open the top button of Riz’s shirt. “I’m being a perfect gentleman back here.”

Riz is scowling, but Fabian can feel the thick weight of him swallowing. The feeling of progress. “So you don’t want me to suck your dick,” he says, wry through his breathlessness.

Fabian presses back up to kiss his cheek as he undoes another button on Riz’s shirt. He presses his hand underneath it against Riz’s stomach, feels the muscles there clench and jump as he idly traces lower. “Is that what you want, angel?” he murmurs into Riz’s ear, pulling his hand back up to splay across his chest, to feel the heaviness of his breath. “You want me to put you on your knees and shove my dick in your mouth?”

Riz sighs, despite himself, almost too quiet to hear. “Unfair,” he breathes. His gaze on the document he has pulled up has long since gone glazed, leaning back into the soft chair. His shirt’s starting to hang off his shoulder where Fabian is undoing buttons one by one, and Fabian takes advantage of the open skin before Riz can stop him, kissing sloppily over the edges of Riz’s collar bone. It’s an awkward angle to get at, bent down over the chair like he is, but the way Riz moans, startled and hot into the near-silent room, is so worth it. “Nng. You and your – fucking pet names.”

“You want me to use a different one?” He finishes the buttons on Riz’s shirt – deliberately moves away from his fly to pinch a nipple, to twist it at the same time as he bites down, so Riz gasps, hands going suddenly tight on the chair arms as he arches in Fabian’s grip. “What are you thinking? Baby boy? Love of my life? My little whore?”

“Fabian,” Riz gasps, eyelashes fluttering.

“Shh, I got you.” Fabian stops talking for a moment to press his mouth into the crook where neck meets shoulder and bite down, hard, so that Riz wrenches up and stutters with it. Fabian is waiting for him – when he thrusts his hips up instinctively, Fabian’s hand is there, waiting, solid and firm for Riz to grind up into, biting his lip as Fabian marks him up.

He takes a moment to admire the hickey when he’s done – it’s hard to see, now, just saliva and the start of a discolor, but it still makes something thrum through him, possessive and rough. “What are you thinking, honey?” he murmurs, resting his chin on Riz’s shoulder. Riz has reached up behind himself with one arm to grab Fabian’s hair in his trembling grip, arm looped over his torso, to tug him back into Riz’s neck, where he gladly drops a few more sloppy kisses. “You want my hand? My mouth? You want me to fuck you, or you fuck me?”

“Just – “ Riz’s eyes squeeze shut as he jerks his hips up, and it makes Fabian burn hot.

“Or could you get off like this?” Fabian says, a little breathless. “Gonna get yourself off grinding against my fucking hand? I won’t even move it. You’ll just take it, take whatever I give you, cum when I tell you to, ruin your suit with how bad you want it, don’t even need to pay attention to you, so desperate for it.”

Riz’s face is flushed red, but he still manages to turn to look at Fabian with a slight glint in his eye. “Just – just because you have a suit kink, doesn’t mean – hnng – doesn’t mean I’m always wearing a suit.”

Fabian pecks him on the mouth, matching his smile. “Not my fault you’re so fancy.”

Riz is opening his mouth to argue when Fabian pushes down with the heel of his hand on Riz’s crotch, and the sudden pressure has Riz’s legs jerking out against the table, arching his back, foot hitting the desk with a loud thunk. “Fuckin’ ow,” Riz gasps, still half a laugh. Fabian rolls his eyes where Riz can’t see, and before Riz can start complaining about his toe hurting or something, he unzips Riz’s pants, grip heavy. Riz helps him shimmy the slacks down his ass a little, and then his underwear. And when Riz is nice and exposed and waiting for Fabian’s hand on his dick, Fabian pulls back, takes the back of the swivel chair in hand, and spins it, catching the arms when Riz is facing him.

It’s a fucking sight – Riz all fucked up from Fabian’s touch, breathless, the start of bruises to mark him as Fabian’s in plain sight on his neck, dick out, shirt pushed to the sides. Fabian thinks he just has a fucking Riz thing, because even now, when Riz is struggling to keep his face schooled into something like exasperation, it’s the hottest thing Fabian’s ever seen. “Fabian,” he starts, like he’s about to fucking lecture Fabian while he looks like _that,_ and god, it is truly not Fabian’s fault that he has to lean in and kiss him at that moment.

When Riz melts into it, Fabian knows he’s finally done it, that he’s seen Riz into one of his moods successfully yet again. Riz whimpers when Fabian pulls away, tugging on his shirt to bring him back in, and Fabian is helpless to it, reaching down to trace Riz’s dick with his fingers as he traces teeth with his tongue. “My angel,” Fabian hisses against his mouth, and Riz gasps, lets his head fall back against the seat as Fabian takes him fully in hand. “My good boy, my baby, love you, let me take care of you, so gorgeous like this, let Daddy fuck you until you can’t move, come on, just like that.”

The _daddy_ gets Riz – always does, no matter which one of them Fabian is using it for, just drives him nuts, makes him squirm under Fabian’s hands like this, makes him call Fabian his good good boy and fuck him hard like that. It’s a dirty trick, but it’s one that Fabian never gets tired of, watching Riz go sweet and open in his arms, giving him permission to do this, to play this out. “F – Fabian, please – “

Fabian bites his chin, jacks him harder. “You know what to call me, baby,” he murmurs. “Come on, say it, you know who you are, you know whose you are.”

Riz almost splits his lip biting down on it, but when Fabian brings his other hand down to press past Riz’s dick, to spread his ass apart and nudge up against his hole, Riz’s whole body jerks, hips fucking upwards, and his voice cracks as he shouts, _“D-daddy!”_

“Perfect,” Fabian breathes, jacking him harder as he buries his face in Fabian’s neck. Fabian pulls his hand back up and sucks on a finger for a moment before he pushes back down to play along Riz’s ass again, to just barely avoid going inside him, so that Riz’s whole face is flushed as he whines. “My perfect baby boy. You want to make me cum? You want me to get off on your pretty little body, want me to carry you to bed and suck your little dick for as long as I want?”

It’s a little overkill – Riz really isn’t small, proportionally speaking, and calling him little feels a bit on the nose – but Riz eats it up, whimpering, nodding into Fabian’s shoulder. “Gonna take you to bed,” Fabian breathes, kissing his cheek, his forehead, his nose. “I’ll fuck you real sweet if that’s what you want, babe. But you gotta give me the yes. You gotta tell me I can take you away from this computer and make you cum for me. You want to, angel? You want to head to bed?”

There’s a moment where there’s no response, and Fabian worries that he’s broken the illusion, reminding Riz that there’s work to be done. And then Riz looks up, still all messed up but smiling, bashfully, just a little, and kisses Fabian, takes the initiative, and Fabian is helpless.

“You gotta fuck my mouth first,” he murmurs. His voice is shaking – Riz still doesn’t quite Do dirty talk the way he listens to it, even after all these years, but when he does break it out it’s always like this, it’s always for the moment, and it always makes Fabian go fucking crazy. “I said at least three blowjobs.”

Fabian snorts. Riz darts in to peck him on the mouth once more, grinning, as he wraps his arms and legs around, gets in a good position for Fabian to hoist him up. “Promises, promises,” Fabian taunts, and Riz laughs as they stumble towards the bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> huzzah, i return! due to Tumblr Drama (long story), i know have a separate nsfw sideblog, so if you want that content on other social media, follow @demisexualriz !


	9. tumblr prompt pt 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2nd of 2 tumblr prompts being posted over here today: 10. “were you just touching yourself?” ‘yeah, what are you gonna do about it?’

“Were you just touching yourself?”

"Yeah, what are you gonna do about it?"

Riz instinctively gives Fabian a scathing look – and quickly diverts his attention, once again, to fumbling with the water bucket he’s sloshed all over the floor, because Fabian hasn’t covered himself at all. “I’m - ” Riz fixes his eyes on the floorboards so that they don’t train on the languid way Fabian’s hands are tugging along the length of his dick, propped up on an unnecessary number of pillows, fancy sheets thrown down over his ankles. “I mean – I’m going to – that is – “

Riz doesn’t have to be looking to know that Fabian’s eyes are fixed on him. He can feel the heat of his gaze following him across the room, as Riz stumbles over to the table where Fabian gets his breakfast, an empty plate and a goblet stacked neatly for him to take care of. “Do you want me to stop?” Fabian murmurs, his voice silky, like he’s hiding a moan under it.

Riz swallows, setting the bucket on the table with shaky hands. “You…should,” he forces himself to say. “Your Highness. It’s not…prudent, to, um.” He coughs into his arm. “Masturbate. In front of. Not-nobles.” Or anyone, actually. But Riz’s brain is, uh. Not working.

“I didn’t ask if I should. Do you want me to stop?”

Riz doesn’t say anything.

Fabian licks his lips and adjusts himself, so he’s sitting up a little further in bed. “Look at me,” he whispers.

Riz slowly, painfully, lets his eyes wander. Fabian, kindly, pauses his movements, gives Riz a chance to just look – let his eyes trail up the muscles of his calves, over the sweaty dip of his stomach, up his shoulders. He’s fucking resplendent, because Fabian is basically a god walking the earth, even if he’s also a huge secret nerd. But what really gets Riz is when he makes it to Fabian’s face – a little pink, biting his lip, shifting restless as he watches Riz watch him. They make hard eye contact, and Fabian’s hips jerk, he makes this little noise like he’s going crazy, and Riz swallows. “Fabian,” he says, because okay, maybe being proprietary was not the way to approach this specific situation. “Fabian, we can’t, just, please don’t make this harder – “

“Just look,” Fabian whispers. His hands pull his own thighs open, for Riz to see, and Riz can’t help but be a captive audience, can’t help but zero in on the way Fabian takes himself in hand, rubs his thumb over the head of his dick. “I know – I know. You said. We can’t. But just look. Just…watch.”

Fabian loves an audience. It’s part of why he’ll be such a good king, someday – he thrives under the pressure of a crowd, shakes off nerves just in time to make speeches. Here, though, the show is private, intimate, in a way that makes Riz’s toes curl in what he can’t pretend isn’t delight. This is _his_ Fabian. Any noble or politician or man on the street can see Fabian performing for people, but this performance is Riz’s and Riz’s alone – done for him and to him, a temptation and a relief at once.

“Do you want to know what I was thinking about?” Fabian whispers. He’s settled into the pillows again, his hips raised to jerk into his own hand, idle, without rush. Riz doesn’t know when he took hold of the table, when his grip went white-knuckled. He nods. “You. Of course. Thinking about – hnng – the broom closet, on the day of the feast. Do you remember?”

Of course Riz remembers. He nods again – he doesn’t trust himself to speak. Fabian is just watching him, that alone is speeding his hand, and it makes Riz shiver. “I remember,” Fabian breathes. He shuts his eyes, lets his head fall back, exposing the long, smooth arch of his neck, unmarred and gorgeous. “Fuck, I remember. Was thinking about – your tongue, god, you were so fucking good with your tongue, you have a whore’s mouth, did I tell you that? Whore’s mouth and cocksucking lips. Thinking about – “ Fabian shudders all the way down his body, arches his back off the mattress. “About your hands, and how, how you, ngh, how you took it so good, how you begged me to – to fuck your throat, how you, _fuck Riz,_ how you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out and just _waited.”_

Riz feels like he’s suffocating, watching Fabian get off. Part of him can still feel it, in the back of his throat, can still feel the words _please please your highness use my mouth, cum on my face so I’ll have to walk around the rest of the feast with your spend on my skin, down my throat so I’ll taste it, please fuck my face I’ll be so good for you please,_ whispered into Fabian’s thigh, embarrassed and needy and only half-aware. Fabian’s dick is so lovely, in front of him, thick and hard, just perfect, in every way, just like all of Fabian is, curving up so that it brushes the top of Riz’s mouth and makes him gag just right.

Riz forces himself to look away, to meet Fabian’s smug gaze again. He takes a deep breath, to steel himself, starts to whisper, “It was a one-time thing, and we can’t – “

“We can, if you want.” Fabian’s breathing is heavy, now. “You’ve been thinking about it, too, haven’t you? Touched yourself? Thought about me?”

Fuck. Riz has – he’d never, ever touched himself before he was appointed to Fabian, just hadn’t seen the point in it, but he has thoroughly explored the sensations over the last few months, thinking about the red of Fabian’s smile when he’s eaten strawberries and he looks at Riz all sweet, about Fabian’s muscular back and arms dripping with sweat as he trains shirtless in the courtyard, thinking about – shamefully – Fabian, on the throne one day, in his full kingly attire, beckoning Riz to him and telling him how to serve his highness.

It must show in the way Riz’s eyes divert, because Fabian speeds up his pace, gasping. “I knew it,” he whispers, shutting his eyes tight as he pushes himself. “I knew all that – all that you’re-a-noble-shit was – was, protecting me, or, whatever. I knew you wanted this, knew you wanted to fuck me.” Riz looks up, sharp. Fabian grins. “Don’t you?” He pushes his legs further apart, so Riz can see, clearly, how the hand that hasn’t been on his dick trails down from his balls, presses in against his perineum, the way his legs jolt. “Don’t you, oh fuck, don’t you want to fuck me like this? You’re so good with your mouth, god, your tongue would feel fucking amazing, and the way you’d be inside me, hard, or soft, or – “ Fabian arches, again, and he’s getting close, Riz knows, deep in his bones. “Fuck, however you wanted it, anything you wanted, you could shove me down and ram me or you could, c-could, take your time, open me up slow, fuck me so I feel you, tell me how much you love it, love how I feel, tell me how – how you love – “

Fabian’s wild, this time, when they make eye contact, like he’s not quite here, like Riz is his only grounding point in the world. “Riz,” he gasps, and it’s the most gorgeous sound in the world. “Riz, tell me, come on, fuck, I just need, tell me how, how you, please, just – “

“Anything,” Riz whispers. On shaky legs he makes his way to the bed, puts a hand to one of the posts, clinging to it like a life raft. “Anything, tell me what to say, anything.”

“Say – “ Fabian throws his head back – “say – Riz, god, fuck, just, just, stop looking and just – “

The moment Riz touches Fabian’s dick – the moment Riz climbs up, on hands and knees, over Fabian’s legs, trembling with the effort to keep from making contact, it doesn’t count if they only make contact in the one place – Fabian comes on his own stomach, sobbing aloud, hips jerking as he works himself through the aftershocks. “Mine,” Riz whispers, reverent, kissing Fabian’s neck, gentle, just the one spot, he can touch Fabian in this one spot, it’s just words, it doesn’t mean anything, “mine, mine, touch yourself for me, mine – “

Fabian reaches up to touch the side of Riz’s face. Riz closes his eyes and gives them both the benefit of stillness as Fabian presses in and kisses him.

It can’t happen again. It didn’t happen. It can’t happen. But it – here – Riz –

“I never got to repay the favor,” Fabian whispers, shimmying down Riz’s body, and Riz tangles a hand in his hair and melts with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as mentioned last chap, due to Tumblr Drama (long story), i now have a separate nsfw sideblog, so if you want that content on other social media, follow me there @demisexualriz !


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